


Meet Cute

by Bebravenow



Category: Kane and Feels (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, i see this as more pre-slash but that's just the show as well, if the show isn't gonna give me backstory then i'll do it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebravenow/pseuds/Bebravenow
Summary: The first time they met was a whirlwind.---Kane backstory, ghosts, and the start of everything.





	Meet Cute

The first time they met was a whirlwind.

Brutus and his partner had been called in on a noise complaint. They arrived at the scene to find a man standing at the steps of a townhouse and a woman blocking the door to said townhouse, both in a vicious shouting match with each other. Neither appeared to be winning.

“-course, of course, out of everyone it’d be you! You, here, disturbing-!” The person blocking the door bellowed.

“Disturbing?! Disturbing my own home? If anything _ you’re _the disturbance!” The man at the steps shouted back.

“Your own home, that’s rich! That is rich coming from you, Mr Kane! Your own home that you haven’t visited in twelve years, only coming around now that there might be some bones to pick clean-”

“Oh, is that what this is about? You held her hand and made her porridge and now you’re afraid you won’t get your _ payment- _”

“Excuse me!” Brutus had to shout to be heard over the two, who turned around in unison. They looked nothing alike but their mannerisms were so similar Brutus would still place bets on them being related somehow.

The woman in the doorway was older, with graying hair, dark, watery eyes, and holding her own quite well. The man was long and thin, like taffy stretched out, and wearing an expensive looking suit that he had almost certainly slept in. Seeing the man’s face was a slap of familiarity, like a childhood memory finally making sense only Brutus couldn’t remember what it was that he was remembering.

He made a mental note to check if he had arrested this man before and pushed on.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Brutus said as kindly as he could, slumping his shoulders in as if that could somehow diminish his size. “I’m Officer Feels, this is Officer Redd,” Brutus gestured to his partner and she tipped her hat at them. “We got a call about a noise complaint. I’m not sure what the problem is but we’re going to need you to bring it down.”

“Of course, officers, I’m terribly sorry, won’t happen again, I assure you,” the woman said with the usual apologetic tone that comes with talking to a cop and the usual backing down that comes with having to look so far _ up _. The man…had none of that.

“Hm. Interesting,” he said, looking Brutus up and down. He didn’t go on.

“Right,” Brutus said after a moment’s pause. “Well. My partner and I can leave, if you like, unless there’s something you feel you need our help with?”

“Tell me, officer, have you ever gone through your entire day at work only to wake up and realize you had dreamed it all?”

Brutus slowly blinked at the man. He looked over at Redd, who was already looking at him. She raised an eyebrow. Brutus shook his head.

“Sometimes I have, yes. Believe that’s a common occurrence. Do you need anything, ma’am?” Brutus asked, turning to the older woman.

The man rolled his eyes, said, “Oh don’t bother. You don’t need to cart me off, I’m leaving. But I will be back tomorrow, and I hope I won’t have to bring any lawyers.” The man directed the last bit to the woman still blocking the door. Her face went red but she didn’t respond as he walked off.

Brutus waited until the man was a long way off before asking, “Do you want us to come back tomorrow, ma’am?”

She looked at the two of them; Brutus, large enough he’d scrape the top and sides of the door frame, and Redd, almost half his size but an easy violence about her that set people on edge.

“Yes,” she said finally. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Her was named Ms Goldie Richardson. She lived in one half of the duplex, worked as the caretaker of the place and, eventually, the caretaker of the owner, Ms Lilith Kane. Lilith had passed away a few weeks previously and, as the townhouse had only been one of many properties she owned, quite a few people had come out of the woodwork looking for any scraps left behind. Including Lilith’s son. Or at least that’s how Goldie put it over tea the next day when Brutus and Redd returned.

“Ms Lilith had been…a dear friend. My employer, yes, but she had always taken such good care of me and my family, and I- I took care of her in return, when she let me. She is- was- _ is _very important to me, Officer Feels. I won’t let her be taken advantage of now that she’s not here to stand up for herself,” Goldie said. The pain in her voice was so genuine it made Brutus's heart ache. He reached over and put a hand on hers.

“I understand, Goldie. And I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Goldie’s smile was teary but sincere. She clasped his hand between hers and said, “You’re a good boy, Officer Feels. Have I told you about my Angie?”

Brutus pulled back, trying to find a way to kindly shut this section of the conversation down and subtly kick Redd to stop her chuckling when he was saved by the doorbell. Goldie’s face fell but was soon replaced by a determination that stayed with her as she answered the door.

“Well? Are you ready to be civilized?” A familiar voice asked as soon as the door was open.

“Civil-?!” Goldie cut herself off and whirled around to stomp back into the living room, leaving the door open behind her. Brutus and Redd stood up as the man from yesterday walked in. He was wearing the same crumpled suit, his hair a mess but held traces of mousse in it. He barely glanced at the group, instead doing a sweep across the room and the items within. Brutus gave Goldie’s accusations a little more merit as the man finally gave them his attention.

“Officers, this is Mr Kane,” Goldie introduced stiffly, not looking at the man as she spoke.

“Hello, yes, we’ve met,” Kane said brusquely. He then walked over and sat next to Brutus. Brutus looked at Goldie for what to do next. After a few tense seconds she sat back down in her chair, and so Brutus and Redd followed suit.

Brutus previously had the couch to himself as the chairs were too small for him to comfortably fit in. Once he sat back down his weight tipped Kane to slowly slide over. Kane made no move to stop it, and either didn’t notice or care when Brutus busied himself with the teapot.

“Now, Ms Richardson, about what I was saying yesterday,” he began, taking the cup of tea Brutus poured for him without hesitation. He held it in his lap, and Brutus noticed how the man had perched himself on the very edge of the couch, as if he didn’t want to touch it.

“Mr Kane,” Goldie interrupted. “As I was saying yesterday, everything will be sorted once the will has been read.”

“You don’t understand! It’s very important—” Kane stopped, looked down at the cup of tea, looked over at Brutus with a baffled expression.

“Sugar?” Brutus offered. The man narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer, but he did take a sip.

“Ms Lilith’s wishes are what’s important now, Mr Kane. Can you at least give her that?” Goldie asked, cold as ice.

“Hm,” Kane replied, just as frosty. He shot to his feet so suddenly that Redd jumped up instinctively, spilling tea all over her hand.

“Can you at least let me have a look around the place,” Kane said, not even close to a question. “You.” He tapped Brutus's shoulder. “You can come with to make sure I don’t steal any silverware.” Without another word he walked off, further into the house. Brutus looked at Redd. Redd raised an eyebrow. Brutus shrugged and followed after him. Redd distracted Goldie by asking for a towel.

Kane walked with a purpose, leaving Brutus to, well, not quite ‘chase’ as it was ‘take a few steps’ after him. Kane didn’t look back, didn’t even look where he was going. It wasn’t until Brutus caught up with him that he saw what Kane was staring at, his attention fixed to a frankly hideous necklace he had pulled out from under his shirt.

Even calling it a necklace felt too generous- purple thread wound around a random assortment of small animal bones. It was long enough that Kane could stretch it out to dangle in front of himself and watch the bones twist and clink against each other. Brutus followed the man up a cramped staircase, idly looking at paintings on the walls; no photos, no pictures of family, just groves of leafless trees in bleak surroundings.

“So,” Kane said, breaking the silence. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Should I be saying something, sir?”

“You are walking through a strange house, following a strange man, who is holding a strange talisman. Most people tend to…_ talk. _” He said the word like it was something dirty.

Brutus didn’t answer for a second, instead watching the strange man pause as the necklace twisted one way, then the other.

“Don’t think I could call that a talisman. More like a child’s necklace with bone instead of macaroni.”

“Child’s necklace!?” Kane said aghast, whirling to look at Brutus. Brutus did his best to look innocent. Kane opened his mouth looking fit to burst, but— stopped. Looked closely at Brutus's face. Then he went back to the necklace and started walking again as though he had never stopped.

“I’ll have you know this ‘child’s necklace’ contains the bones of a saint,” Kane said.

“Does it?”

“The only proper way to make a talisman.”

“Are you telling me, sir, that you confess to grave robbing? Or that we’re sainting,” Brutus bent down to take a closer look at the necklace. “Chickens is my guess.”

Kane face nor tone changed as he continued, “It’s rather vain to assume only humans can become saints, isn’t it?”

“Consider me chastised. Did the chicken perform three miracles then, sir?”

“Oh, enough with the ‘sir’! I’m certainly not a ‘sir’. My name is Lucifer.”

Brutus felt his brain pause and he mentally hit the ‘rewind’ button. “Sorry, wait, your name is _ Lucifer _? Lucifer Kane?”

“What, did Goldie not tell you?”

“She talked more about Lilith. You’re really named Lucifer Kane? Oh, that makes so much sense.”

“What?” Lucifer said, looking at Brutus and Brutus caught the dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes and how he acted impossibly awake. “What do you mean, ‘makes sense’?”

“Oh, uh, no reason. Just- felt like saying something.”

“Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t suit you.”

Brutus was bizarrely warmed by that, as if this man whose name he didn’t know minutes ago and found out was called _ Lucifer _seconds ago’s opinion mattered. Normally that would cause Brutus to think about his words more carefully. By the time that thought had crossed his mind he was already talking.

“Well, you either call yourself that because you’re, you know, a serious witchy type, or your mother played a mean trick on you as an infant.”

He expected Kane to puff up. Men did that sometimes around Brutus, trying to show they weren’t weak or intimidated.

Kane laughed.

It was a nice laugh. Or, no, actually it was more wheezy and choked like he hadn’t laughed much and was out of practice, but that’s what made it nice. He looked at Brutus again and this time it felt like he was really, honestly _ seeing _Brutus, like he had deemed Brutus worth remembering and was doing his best to catalog him. Brutus smiled back and hoped it was a good memory.

“You are an interesting man, Officer.”

“Brutus. Brutus Feels.”

“Jesus, I was sure I had misheard you the other day. The man called Feels is making fun of my name.”

“Insecure, you know how it is-” Brutus's hand shot out and grabbed Lucifer by the shoulder, stopping them both in place. He wasn’t sure why he did it until his brain caught up with his body and he understood something awful was ahead of them.

They were at the end of the upstairs hallway. The door in front of them would most likely be a bedroom, maybe open up into Goldie’s side of the house, but there was a feeling beyond that door of- of- something. Something Brutus couldn’t put a name to and probably wouldn’t want to if he could.

“What— oh.” The surprise in Lucifer’s voice made Brutus take note. The necklace had wound itself up so tight it was almost a ball against Lucifer’s hand.

“We should head back,” Brutus said, attempting nonchalance and failing utterly.

“Don’t be absurd— I mean, yes, you should go back, see if Goldie has a key.”

“I might get lost. You should lead me.”

“It’s a straight path in a small house, you’ll find your way.”

Lucifer took a step forward. Brutus held on tighter and tugged, forcing Lucifer to take a step back and turn away from the door. He did the _ looking _at Brutus again.

“Why don’t you want me to go in there?”

“I- it’s- I just…”

“It’s…okay. You can tell me.” The way Lucifer said it was far from comforting, too much interest and not enough sympathy, but for some unholy reason that did more to calm Brutus than any reassurance. Lucifer was holding a hideous necklace made of knotted thread and bone, had zeroed in on the most ominous room in the house, and Lucifer _ wasn’t scared. _

“There is something in that room that doesn’t feel right and I don’t know if I can punch it,” Brutus said.

The words hung in the air, and then Lucifer started laughing again.

“What?” Brutus asked, a little hurt and a little embarrassed that he was hurt.

“Punch it!” Lucifer repeated. “You can feel the sucking maws of a horrific, otherworldly hunger and your first instinct isn’t to run or- or- piss yourself, it’s to knock it out!” Lucifer rubbed his face and was able to stop his laughter but couldn’t quell the joy and excitement on his face. He reached out and patted Brutus's arm before grabbing onto his sleeve and giving it a pull. “Now come on, let’s go punch a ghost.”

Lucifer opened the door and walked in. And Brutus… Brutus followed.

* * *

“There is something I should tell you,” Lucifer began, leading the way into the room his mother had called ‘the attic’. In a brief moment of second-guessing himself Lucifer glanced back but the other man, this Officer Brutus Feels, large as a barn and a smile like soft sheets, was right in step behind. Lucifer looked away to keep his surprised grin to himself.

“…Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Brutus asked, laughter in his voice a sharp contrast to the chaotic energies that pervaded the room.

“Have you ever seen a ghost, Brutus?” Lucifer went on.

“Never.”

“Lucky you. I have, more than a few times. But the first ghost I ever saw was my mother’s.”

“Your mother? But I thought she passed away not even a month ago.”

“She did, what does that have to do with— oh, no, you’ve got it backwards. I don’t mean the ghost was the remaining vestiges of my departed mother, I mean my mother had _ taken it.” _

“…Taken? From where?”

“Hm, that’s a difficult question. From where but also from whom?”

Brutus grabbed on to Lucifer’s shoulder again but he needn’t have bothered this time, Lucifer had stopped in his tracks. He spared a thought to question how it was this man could feel the Other Side while the rest of Lucifer despaired at the mirror.

It was large, floor length, not a speck of design or beauty to it and entirely not his mother’s taste. She hadn’t bought it for its style. She bought it for how easy it had been to carve into. As a child he had thought the etchings in the mirror were beautiful, as he grew older he thought his mother’s handiwork ugly and crude, and now he fervently wished he could see those sloppy renderings again as each carving along the outer edges of the mirror had been smashed, one by one.

“Mr Feels?”

“Yes, Mr Kane?”

“I think it would be prudent of you to leave.”

“Are you coming with me?”

“No.”

“Then I think I’ll stay here.”

Lucifer tried to respond but the words got stuck in his throat. A figure, humanoid in shape but not in essence, appeared from behind the mirror. It began to walk, or attempted to imitate walking but got all the pieces wrong. It moved around the room and with every step it solidified a bit more, grew more tangible. Lucifer turned with it, keeping it in his sights at all times. Brutus followed Lucifer’s tugs, eager to escape the hunger he could feel but not see. Or he was until they turned back to the door they entered from and saw Goldie standing there, breathing heavily, face red from anger and tears. Brutus started towards her until Lucifer yanked his arm. He could have easily pulled out of Lucifer’s grasp but he didn’t. He obeyed. He _ listened. _

“Goldie, move!” Brutus ordered but the thing was already next to her. It held something resembling a hand to where its mouth should be and bent down to whisper in her ear, and Goldie…Goldie tilted her head to hear it better. Lucifer’s stomach plummeted. The thing shimmered like a heat wave and there, as if she had always been, stood Lilith Kane.

She didn’t look like how Lucifer had last seen her, a tense dinner where neither of them mentioned that it would almost certainly be the last they saw of each other. She was smaller, more fragile, curled in on herself like a pill bug. But her eyes were wrong; she looked over at Lucifer and instead of the hazel he expected to see, they were a light green. The exact color of Goldie’s eyes.

“Goldie,” Brutus said carefully. “Where is my partner?”

“She warned me!” Goldie said, her voice trembling. “She told me you would try and take her away!”

“Goldie, that thing is not my mother—” Lucifer tried to say but Goldie kept going.

“I lost her but she came back for me and I won’t let you take her away again!” Goldie yelled, pulled a knife hidden behind her back, and ran at them.

Brutus shoved Lucifer aside with enough strength that Lucifer stumbled and fell, slamming onto his back. Brutus dodged, surprisingly swift, out of the way of Goldie’s frantic slashing.

“Brutus! You have to stop her!” Lucifer said, looking around the room for the thing that wore his mother’s face.

“I’m not going to attack-” Brutus grabbed a box labeled ‘dishes’ and flung it between him and Goldie. “An elderly, grieving woman!” he finished.

“Well as long as she’s feeding that thing we won’t be able to stop it!”

“What does that _ mean _?!” Brutus asked, but— finally!— pulled out his baton. “Goldie, I don’t want to hurt you. Drop the weapon, we can talk about this!”

“I won’t let you take her!” Goldie shouted. “I won’t let her leave!”

Lucifer scanned the room desperately but there was nothing he could see, could only feel the void that consumed all that was around it. So he closed his eyes and felt for it. Brutus cried out in pain and Lucifer wanted to look but the best way to help was finding a way to stop it and if he could just find where the thing was… Oh.

“Damn,” Lucifer said right before the necklace was pulled taut behind him. He fell back, trying to keep the necklace loose but that was a stopgap at best. His own divining magic tightened around his neck until it dug into his skin and cut off his airways. So close to the creature it curled up into itself, accidentally helping in strangling him.

“Luce!” Brutus shouted. His forearm had a slice in it, a few of his knuckles holding the baton had been cut, but seeing someone else getting hurt was what pushed panic into his voice. “Sorry, Goldie,” he said before ducking down and ramming his shoulder into the woman. She fell hard onto the floor, the knife clattering out of her hand. Brutus almost fell from his own inertia and had to scramble on his hands and knees until he could get his legs under him and ran to Lucifer, snatching the knife up as he went. Within seconds the blunt side of the knife was digging into his throat as Brutus tried to cut the string without cutting Lucifer. The metal was cold against Lucifer’s neck and he stared at Brutus’s desperate expression and, for a moment, Lucifer wasn’t sitting in the house he swore he’d die before returning to and was in the process of fulfilling that promise. He watched Brutus and for a moment he felt like he was home.

The necklace snapped, sending bones flying across the floor. Lucifer fell to his knees, choking on air. Brutus knelt down right next to him.

“You’re good, you’re okay,” Brutus said, over and over again as Lucifer coughed and gagged. Lucifer wasn’t sure if his words were reassurance or relief.

Lucifer started to respond but caught sight Goldie upright and walking up to Brutus with some old, ceramic lamp in her hand and hatred carved into her face. Lucifer bolted to his feet, overshot, fell into Goldie and she struggled to keep them both upright.

“Get off of me!” Goldie shouted breathlessly. There was blood in her hair and Lucifer didn’t know if the blood was her own or Brutus's.

“Goldie, stop it!” Lucifer said, trying to sound demanding but came out wheezy.

“You’ll murder her!”

“She’s already dead!”

“I don’t care!”

“That isn’t her, Goldie! You know it isn’t!”

“I! Don’t! Care!” Goldie sobbed. Her whole body trembled and it was now Lucifer holding her up.

“Goldie,” Lucifer whispered.

“I don’t care,” Goldie repeated. “I don’t, I don’t care, it doesn’t have to be her so long as there’s something of her in it, I can’t lose her, I can’t, please, don’t make me lose her.” She crumpled onto the floor in a heap, leaving Lucifer awkwardly holding a lamp. She didn’t cry like someone trying to avoid attention or someone trying to get it. She cried the broken wails of someone who had nothing left to lose.

“I…” Lucifer tried, mouth flopping open and closed. “I don’t…”

“Lucy.”

Lucifer’s spine went ramrod straight. He heard it from beside him and _ gods _he didn’t want to look. But he couldn’t help himself.

In the midst of the chaos stood Lucifer’s mother, this time as he remembered her; all black clothes with silver jewelry that gleamed, hair pulled up into something simple but flattering, dark lipstick that enhanced the resentment. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and they looked at Lucifer disdainfully. But then— she softened. The latent anger that followed all his life drained away there was nothing left but someone who looked like a mother should, and she looked sorry.

“Oh, Lucy,” she said, the sympathy in her voice was wrong, all wrong, but something in Lucifer melted at it. She held her arms out, inviting him in for a hug and he took a step closer, heard the lamp clatter to the floor. Her eyes were so kind, so warm, molten black and— 

Not hazel.

Those weren’t his mother’s eyes. Those were his own, looking back at himself like a mirror.

Like a _ mirror. _

“You’re not her,” Lucifer spat out and she fractured, different sections showing slightly different images like cracks running through her. “You’re not even a good facsimile. You’re what I expect and what I want and what I assume. You’re the warped imaginings of a person from my point of view. And worse, you feed off of that, off what I give you, on what Goldie gives. You leech onto someone and eat the memories, the emotions, what remains once a person is gone. But what happens if I won’t give you anything?”

Lucifer didn’t blink, didn’t look away, but somehow she was directly in front of him, a million different memories of Lilith Kane all bleeding into one another, and on the edges something not human at all.

“I can feed off of any emotion,” the thing said in Lilith Kane’s voice, their hand cupping Lucifer’s face, nails digging into his cheek. “It’s just easier when you comply.”

And, again, Lucifer didn’t blink, didn’t look away, but somehow Brutus was there, tackling the thing to the ground. He watched, unsure if the scene was even real or another illusion, as Brutus grabbed the things arms and forced them against its chest. Only when it leaned in and bit down on Brutus's already injured forearm, causing him to shout, could Lucifer comprehend what was happening and jumped into action.

He hit the floor and grabbed the thing by its hair, yanking it away from Brutus's arm. It hissed at them both, but then Brutus got a hand free and _ punched it in the face. _ Lucifer wasn’t sure if he or the thing were more surprised by that, but the thing was definitely more dazed. Lucifer got to his feet and got a firmer grip on its hair, which had begun to twist and slither like snakes.

“To the mirror, quickly!” Lucifer said. Brutus instantly complied, standing up from the thing while making sure to keep its wrists pinned together, and the two of them dragged it across the floor. It howled and shrieked, kicking at the floor and whatever storage boxes it could reach. It begged in more voices than Lucifer could recognize, crying and demanding in turns.

“Keep it here,” Lucifer said once they stood in front of the mirror again. Brutus grunted in agreement, placing a foot on the thing’s abdomen. Lucifer put his shaking hands on the mirror, mind racing. The runes were shattered, so he needed to replace them. He couldn’t replace them because they were still there, in the way. He couldn’t remove them because they were part of the mirror. He needed the mirror— no. No, he needed the _ reflection _.

Lucifer turned in circles, looking all around the room. Most things were in boxes and he couldn’t go searching through every one. He just needed something, anything that could show the thing itself.

The lamp was on the floor where he had dropped it earlier. If you looked really closely you could probably see your eye looking back.

He sprinted over to it. The knife was close enough he could grab them both in one go. He nearly dropped the lamp in his haste but he carried it back to where Brutus was now nearly standing on the thing and the thing was almost bucking him off.

Lucifer dropped to his knees, sliding a little in his haste. He breathed against the lamp and shined it with his coat sleeve, then grabbed the knife and began carving. He didn’t need to look at the runes. He knew them by heart.

“Wouldn’t mind hurrying a bit, would you?” Brutus asked. Lucifer spared a split second to catch Brutus still holding on to the thing’s wrists but now kneeling against a third arm that had grown out of its chest.

“If I don’t get these right I’ll have to start all over,” Lucifer warned, but did attempt to speed up.

Once he was finished Lucifer threw the knife aside and away from everyone and forced the lamp right into the things face.

“Look at it,” Lucifer demanded. The thing churned and bubbled, its face elongating and twisting away from the lamp and looking aside. Into Brutus's eyes.

“Hey there, Brute,” it said in a calm, caring voice that made Brutus pale. In his shock the third arm twisted free and shot out to Brutus's heart. Lucifer pushed the lamp to block Brutus from seeing its eyes and, consequently, into its line of sight.

The scream was distant, like an echo from streets away. The thing shimmered and didn’t quite vanish as much as it had never been there. Lucifer and Brutus sat, bleeding, out of breath, and kneeling in an old room holding too many memories and even more dust. Lucifer carefully set the lamp aside and stretched out his back.

“So,” Brutus said. “Ghosts, huh?”

“Hm, not your regular ghost. More like what it thinks a ghost is.”

“So there are regular ghosts?”

Lucifer gave Brutus a tired look. “It’s a bit late to be pretending you don’t know.”

Brutus nodded, stood, and walked over to Goldie. Lucifer startled at the reminder there was someone else here. Lucifer didn’t think he’d miss the crying, but Goldie staring off at the broken mirror with no sadness or fear or any emotion at all was much worse.

“Goldie,” Brutus said. She didn’t respond, didn’t even blink. “Goldie?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. She— maybe twitched at that. Something approaching life seemed to stir within her and that pushed Lucifer forward. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t…that it wasn’t her. I’m sorry you lost the person you loved, and I’m sorry you lost her twice.”

Nobody said anything. Flecks of dust disturbed by the battle drifted in the air, glowing in the light of the hallway.

“I told her,” Goldie said, her voice broken. “I told her so many times that if she didn’t treat you better she would lose you. After you left for good, I told myself it must have been something you’d done because she was never happy once you were gone.”

“She was never happy when I was here,” Lucifer said, no anger or fight to his words.

“Now, that’s not tr—” Goldie stopped when she saw the look Lucifer gave her. “I’m sorry, Lucifer,” she said instead. “You deserved better. From both of us.”

“Yes, well,” Lucifer said. He didn’t bother standing up, instead crawled over to where Goldie and Brutus were sitting. Brutus raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything when Lucifer glared at him. Lucifer grabbed Brutus's wounded arm and pulled it onto his lap before finally finishing, “Jealousy can do crazy things to a person.”

“Jealousy?” Goldie asked.

Lucifer didn’t look at her, started patting his pockets instead. Didn’t mean to go for his cigarettes but pulled them out anyway, along with the handkerchief he had been looking for. He gently started cleaning blood from Brutus's cut, staying away from the actual wound as he wasn’t sure how clean the handkerchief was.

“Mother was…” Lucifer started, cleared his throat. “She was certain that she was someone— important. Destiny levels of importance. She kept looking for proof, always searching for the other half. I think she might have had me because she thought I’d be what she needed. When it turned out I was, well, more adept than her, it…I think it broke her, a little. It took a long time for her to come to terms with it and once she did there was a lot of bad blood between us, so. I left. This won’t need stitches, we can wrap it up later,” Lucifer said to Brutus. Brutus nodded, and his hand squeezed Lucifer’s wrist only briefly, but it knocked something stuck in Lucifer’s chest and he could breathe again. He looked up at Goldie, caught her eyes and didn’t turn away.

“Mother loved you. I know you know that, but I also know she never said it. She loved you so much. You were her Rock.”

There was recognition in Goldie’s face at that, mixed together with a sadness and joy that filled her eyes with tears. She reached out to touch Lucifer’s hand and he couldn’t hold back a flinch. She only smiled at him, gave his hand a few pats and left it at that. He smiled back.

Then Goldie jumped. Brutus and Lucifer tensed, Brutus getting on one knee and looking behind them while Lucifer reached into an open box for something to throw.

“Oh, no, your _ partner _!” Goldie said. Brutus whirled back around.

“Redd?” He asked. “Where is she, is she okay-”

“She’s still locked in the pantry!” Goldie said, clambering to her feet and running out the door.

Brutus paused. “The pantry?” he asked no one.

Lucifer tried not to laugh. He really, really did. Brutus stared at him, wide-eyed. Lucifer, only slightly in hysterics, grabbed the packet of cigarettes and pulled one out before offering the pack to Brutus. Brutus sighed and took one.

* * *

Brutus stood by the ambulance, watching Redd talk to the officers she called in for backup. He couldn’t hear what she was saying but her tense, forceful gestures and the way the other officers were flinching led him to believe she found a target for her pent up rage. It had taken some time for Brutus to move the toppled cabinet full of freshly broken dishes out of the way, careful to keep from spilling broken glass all over the floor, while Lucifer stood to the side and offered suggestions such as ‘lift it higher’ and ‘careful of the table’.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Lucifer snapped at the EMT looking at his neck. He pushed the woman aside and clambered out of the ambulance before attempting to straighten his clothes. He didn’t look up from fixing his vest as he gravitated to Brutus’s side. Brutus finished his cigarette and dropped it to the asphalt, scuffing out the lit end. Across the way Goldie walked around, one hand holding an ice pack to her head and the other offering a tray of biscuits to everyone, steadfastly ignoring everyone trying to get her to sit down.

The two of them stood side by side but neither spoke for some time.

“So,” Lucifer said finally. “You’re awful quiet.”

Brutus snorted. From his periphery he saw Lucifer’s tense posture loosen a touch.

“Sorry, is this the part where we debrief?” Brutus asked.

“Something like that. How’s the arm?”

“Hm? Oh, right, it’s fine. Just like you said, no stitches.”

Lucifer nodded. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes but didn’t take any out, instead began to flip it in between his hands. Brutus took the distraction to look at Lucifer’s neck, at the thin line already beginning to blossom out into a horrifying bruise.

“Thank you.”

Brutus blinked, coming back to the present. “Sorry?”

Lucifer glared at Brutus, who only shrugged. Lucifer sighed, looked back to the house. “Thank you. For. Everything,” he said again, making a vague gesture at the place.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem. Think nothing of it.”

Lucifer’s glare was more vicious this time. Brutus tried to give a stronger shrug. “I appreciate the thanks, honestly, but I’m just glad I could help,” Brutus said. Lucifer squinted his eyes at Brutus, looked at the house, looked back at Brutus, all the while flipping the pack in his hands faster.

“That’s it?” Lucifer said. Brutus looked down at Lucifer, who was somehow crackling with energy after everything. Brutus stepped back and carefully sat down on the curb.

“That’s what?” He asked, stretching his legs out in front of him. Lucifer looked for all the world like someone waiting for the punchline to a joke they didn’t want to hear. Brutus waited for Lucifer to continue, tried to get more comfortable in the meantime, and the look faded into confusion.

“You…” Lucifer began before shaking his head. He pocketed the cigarettes and moved to sit next to Brutus. Brutus obligingly scooted over. Lucifer curled in on himself, knees up and his arms resting atop them. Normally Brutus would be very aware of how much space he was taking up all sprawled out, but couldn’t find it in him to care at the moment.

“Don’t you have questions?” Lucifer asked.

“Oh, yes, tons. But I thought it would be better to wait a bit before bombarding you. Plus, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

“Yes, energy draining creatures do take it out of you.”

Brutus watched Lucifer’s leg bounce for a moment. “Doesn’t seem to have done much to you.”

Lucifer huffed out a laugh. “That does seem to be the case, doesn’t it?”

“Is this how you answer all your questions?”

“Does that surprise you?” Lucifer’s grin was sharp and Brutus found himself unable to keep himself from grinning back.

“Can you answer one thing for me?” Brutus asked. “Really answer it?”

Lucifer turned serious, looking at Brutus as though Lucifer was the one asking for an answer. Whatever he saw was enough to make him nod.

“Was the chicken actually sainted?”

The silence dragged on long enough for Brutus to start to worry. Then, without warning, Lucifer burst into wheezing, choking laughter that shook his entire body. His laughter still wasn’t the laugh of someone well-versed in humor, but this time it sounded like he had gotten some practice in.

**Author's Note:**

> I got the line 'The first ghost I saw was my mother's' from Crimson Peak, which I completely misunderstood and thought was an amazing line until I realized what they meant. I've held on to it for a while until I met Kane and knew he could do the line right.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
